


Unexpected Discovery

by Hotalando



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Archaeology, Eventual Romance, F/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2571179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotalando/pseuds/Hotalando
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robin is an archaeologist and works for a research institute. Her life’s well-balanced, calm and very according to plan, until she and her team get a tip for an extraordinary discovery far outside of town. And what she discovers there is beyond everything she’d ever dreamt of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first Frobin fanfiction and I'm so far very very proud of it, that's I'm daring to share it with you. This story is my baby currently and I'm putting all my energy into writing it, that's why each chapter takes a while to finish. (I'm a perfectionist with some things.)  
> This is an modern!AU but set in fictional cities that have a past I made up. They made be similar to existing cities but that's just because I did use existing cities for research and such. Same goes for the historical events and people and that kind. 
> 
> For any questions, just leave a comment, and feedback is much appreciated! Happy reading!

When the first rays of the new day broke through the cracks of the blinds, she knew it was time for a break. A tired sigh left her lips as she closed her book and put it down before her, heavy lids covered her eyes while she was nuzzling her back into the cushions. Her shoulders ached terribly from a night of sitting uncomfortably in the armchair and her head was developing a mild migraine; she was in dear need of her bed and a few hours of rest. But the book lying across from her on the table had cast a spell on her and she was unable to tear her thoughts away from it. Although her body was craving sleep, her mind was wide awake, processing the newly obtained information from the godforsaken book. 

Her gaze wandered through the room, enjoying the golden shine it was gifted with from the sunlight. The library was her favorite place to be, at all times. It was for these moments, when she felt sated with knowledge from ancient times, drained from having her spirits drawn into a different time and place, but so content with the sacrifice she had made to revive someone else’s memory in her imagination. For her, a night of reading was the best way of spending time, and she happily neglected her social life and ignored any natural needs her body might have in order to finish a book in one night. 

It resembled the kind of person she was; calm and introvert, preferred spending time alone in a familiar environment than outside with strange people. She had always been like this, watching the surrounding world through a glass wall. No one had ever dared to step behind it, no one had ever tried to be on the same level as her nor considered it, and that was fine with her. She didn’t need anyone. 

Giving into her aching limbs, she straightened up and decided to prepare a little breakfast for herself. She walked through the room, past the huge oak shelves carrying the hundreds of hundreds of books she had collected over the years. The sun played with the brightly golden or silvery words carved into some books’ spines, adding a nostalgic, yet magical look to the binding. She let her fingers brush over the books while passing them by, in some very abstract way it was a caress to her companions that held the memories and nightmares of the whole world in their hands. Because, in some abstract kind of way, all her books were her only ever present companions, the ones that never asked for more than her time and concentration, and only a little bit of devotion. 

A little later she settled into a wicker chair on her porch, a bowl of fruit salad in her hands and a mug of steaming hot coffee on the table. The birds’ twittering and the chilly morning breeze were the only company in the early hours of the day, but she loved it nonetheless; this peaceful quietness.

+++

Work was piling up on her desk when she arrived later, the same untidiness she had left only yesterday. There was a mountain of paper sheets on each furniture that had a surface massive and was big enough for it, save for the armchair by the window, and a little spot in the center of her desk. She loved coming into her office to find work awaiting her simply because she loved drowning in it and forgetting about her own reality for as long as she could.

Most of it was research, notes and sketches she had made of the things she was racking her brain about. Another love of her’s, and luckily research was the core of her job. It completed her in a way, to deal with someone else’s life rather than with her own. She thought, she had better things to do, that there were more expedient ways to use her intelligence and time than spending her skills on her own life. After all, it was her purpose to ensure that the past would not be forgotten. 

Leaving her coat by the sideboard at the door, she immediately walked over to her desk to check for any note from her co-workers, any letters that had been left there for her. With a smile she picked up a little handwritten note from her best friend, a reminder of their plans for the weekend perfected with a little heart; it was so short but sweet, she couldn’t wait to thank her friend for her efforts. 

After stretching her arms and legs, she sat upright in her chair and reached for the old diary she had been analyzing yesterday. The binding was torn to the point where the leather could be ripped off without much effort, the pages were corrugated from dampness and the ink damaged from the water the book had been soaked with. Some days ago their apprentice had brought it in, a find a befriended fisher had pulled out of the water on one of his trips out on the sea. So far, she hadn’t been able to quite understand the context of it nor had been able to find out to whom it had once belonged. The only thing she knew was that this diary seemed to be a part of a much greater discovery they would be about to make. 

Slightly frustrated with the lack of information the book was providing her, she turned it in her gloved hands to examine the binding a little further. It seemed to be made of simple calfskin, a fine piece of work though, with little flowery ornaments carved into the leather in what seemed to be gold and silver. She brushed over it with her thumb to feel the deep curves marking the dark blue material and couldn’t suppress the smile forming on her lips at the almost intimate action. Someone somewhere a long time ago had touched the same spots on this book as her, had maybe even admired the same beautiful lines adorning the front and back. A sentiment she couldn’t describe with words but it never failed to reward her with a feeling of spiritedness.

The beauty of the handwriting was another thing she found quite odd. Even though the seawater had removed the context from the words, there was still enough of the calligraphy left to admire. Such graceful writing was rare but helpful for her research; she would be able to analyze the person’s characteristics a little more. In her mind she was already imagining a middle-aged man coming from a good family, maybe even a nobleman, well-educated with a predilection for art, noting down his experiences, thoughts and ideas in a diary while sailing the seven seas. A romantic idea of life, she had been dreaming of so many times but reality had never been fond of those plans. 

She released a soft sigh and stretched her legs under the desk. There was no point in rereading the few words left on the pages, she wouldn’t be able to make a sense out of them with a lack of background information. It was so frustrating to be stuck, she felt helpless and uncreative of figuring out another method to understand the diary’s history. Leaning back in her chair, she considered pushing the book into the back of her head and settle with the continuation of her paperwork, but only one glance at the little diary sufficed to wipe that thought off her mind.

As if it was calling out to her, as if it wanted, begged her to figure it out. There was some hidden, unsolved mystery that needed to be brought to the surface with her help. How could she even think about neglecting her duty? It was her purpose after all, she owed it to humankind, to this book and mostly to its owner to find out about their tragedy. 

With growing determination, she arose from her chair with the book in her hands and decided to find out a little more about its find spot. She was almost certain that wherever it had been hiding all those decades, there would be more that needed to resurface. And she would happily give a helping hand.

Her plan brought her to the institute’s forensic anthropologist whose laboratory extended over the entire cellar. Their relationship was of no particular kind, they worked together well when necessary and she knew to count on him whenever she was in need of his expertise. Despite his outstanding knowledge and his skilled work, he was an idiosyncratic person and avoided society as much as a man of his field was able to, a characteristic of him she respected more than most people. In some sort of way, she related to him on this particular level very well and on another note, he was a very uncomplicated and comfortable person to work with. 

For many of their colleagues, he was a difficult matter. During every visit to his catacombs, she realized again why almost everyone dreaded to work with him. For one, it was his working environment that even for her was too morbid and never failed to scare the others away. A fortiori she wondered how their shy and sensitive apprentice liked to spend his whole day inside this chamber of horror while it was the setting of her own nightmares so often. Though she had trouble averting her eyes from the skulls and internal organs swimming in alcohol in glass jars, macabre decoration on the shelves along the walls, she tried to find her way through the labyrinth of dissecting tables and shelves, her eyes fixed on the ground before her to avoid looking at the ugly objects to her sides. 

The other reason was his strange aura. She approached him with caution, gently knocked on the arched door frame before stepping into his personal space; the consequences of disregarding those rules were clearer to her than a starlit night. His moves were calm and slow, almost mirroring his inside, leaving no doubt how a visitor was objectionable to him. When his dark framed eyes settled on her, she hugged herself a little closer and pressed her crossed arms tighter to her ribs. The reflection of the sickeningly yellowish light in his deep brown eyes added a look of insanity to his already frightening appearance, the glance she was offered forced her to look away and at the tip of her shoes instead; his piercing looks never wasted a chance of muting her self-confidence.

He arose from his chair by a large dissecting table carrying a new body and turned towards a door leading to a smaller room. She was used to the sight of pale, lifeless, cut open bodies and preferred them from the openly presented organs in the glass jars or the smelly skeletons in the next chamber. Yet she shook when a grave shiver ran down her spine and decided to linger her gaze on the anthropologist instead who fortunately was preoccupied with someone else now. Despite his mysterious aura, he was a handsome man in his late-twenties, with short black hair as tousled and untidy as the disharmonious outfits he was wearing under his white lab coat. There were tattoos inked into the skin of his fingers, the back of his hands and his forearms that so perfectly matched his personality in her opinion and she wondered sometimes if he knew how predictable he could be. 

A high-pitched voice lightened up the dark atmosphere of the laboratory and forced her back to reality. Emerging from the little chamber was a boy of nineteen years, tainting the gloomy catacombs with an air of joyfulness. Strangely, this boy with his blue and pink beanie and the unavoidable cheerfulness was the anthropologist’s secret weak spot. Although being the complete opposites of each other, the two were a remarkable team when it came to their assigned field, and also their supervisor’s pride and joy.

“Hello, Robin!” the young scientist beamed at her and pushed a strand of light brown hair behind his ear, very obviously nervous in her presence. With excitement vibrating in his voice, he added: “We are examining a body for the police they found a few days ago. It’s missing all internal organs and was found stitched together again buried in a playground. We’re close to solving the case!” 

“What good news, I’m glad to hear that your work is successful,” she smiled at him gently, not missing the grumbling sound coming from the other man at the mention of the missing organs. His obsession with human internal organs was no secret to the institute’s staff and no bother to their supervisor despite their complaints.

Smiling from ear to ear, the anthropologist-to-be thanked her politely and turned to almost hop back into his little chamber. A soft giggle left her lips at the sight, he was too cute to be true and too jolly for this kind of environment. Subconsciously her hand tightened around the diary as if to remind her of its existence and the actual reason that brought her here. “Oh, Chopper, wait a minute.” The teenager halted in his tracks and turned around again, surprised to be addressed by her at all. “I’m currently analyzing the book you gave me but I seem to be stuck with my research. Would you mind telling me more about its find spot?”

Nodding with a broad smile on his features, Chopper jumped onto a chair by his instructor’s side and started to tell what he knew. It was visible how happy he was that contrary to his boss, Robin was highly interested in the whole matter and had taken his words seriously. “A friend of mine works as fisher at the seaside and sometimes he takes me with him on his little boat. And that’s how I found the diary. I thought it was quite extraordinary to be dumped in the sea, it looks so expensive and somehow important, not to mention the stamp on the first page.”

“That’s what I thought too. I stumbled over the stamp as well but it’s too damaged to make out anything specific. So I hoped you could provide me with some more information,” Robin smiled and settled onto a chair at the end of the dissecting table. 

“There’s nothing more I know though,” Chopper sighed in disappointment, “Not about the book in particular. But my friend told me he found a few other things on the same spot. I couldn’t take a look at them yet.”

The prospect of more valuable objects that possibly were connected to the diary was reviving Robin’s spirits, her mind was working fast on making a decision. “Is it possible to meet up with your friend right now? I would like to see those other finds, they might help me with my research.”

“I... guess, he must be at work right now. But I...,” the teenager interrupted himself and turned towards the silent man examining the dead body in their center, “Can I go with her, Dr. Trafalgar? I’m almost done with the report on the examination.”

Without taking his concentrated gaze of the dead woman before him, the forensic anthropologist mumbled the words his apprentice wanted to hear, “You’re dismissed.”

+++

Salty air filling her lungs, a rough breeze playing with her long raven hair, sea spray touching her bare skin; she loved the seaside at any time of the year. Fall was close and the weather was changing its colors visibly, its cold, harsh wind was making her shiver and the grayish sky casted shadows on her mood. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbed her skin through the thin cardigan and looked over her shoulder towards her companion. Her gaze wandered over the scenery before her, this extraordinary place that seemed to go by its own time. Never had she thought that their young apprentice knew such interesting people, let alone a beautiful place like this one.

It hadn’t quite occurred to her what their destination would be in reality, and by far, she hadn’t expected anything close to the beautiful sight her eyes had been presented. In fact, she had exited the car and forgotten for a moment what their actual reason to be here was, so much the sight captivated her. They were in a coastal settlement that lived of fishing and harvest, an enchanted little village that exceeded everything she had ever imagined or seen. Contrary to the small number of villagers, the area was very vivid and colorful, so much more spirited than the huge city she lived in. Children were running around in the streets, old men sitting together by a fountain watching life in their village, mothers drying the laundry on the balconies or cooking lunch in shared courtyards. Anything about this place was so different from the city and its suburbs that Robin wondered if they had miraculously entered another dimension. 

Sitting lonely on a little hill at the shore was the only boat rental service of the village. A white stone cabin with a brown roof, so sober compared to the rank environment and the colorful village in the background. There were a few flower pots set before the front wall, carrying strange green plants instead of roses that seemed so typical of this village, aside from an old, worn down bench by the side of the house, there was nothing about this place that mirrored the spiritedness of the village it belonged to. It blended in with the grayish, lifeless rocks by the shore though it stood out with its own special shine. The yard was small but clearly decorated with hedges and bushes and even a few apple trees while the front was crammed with boats for rent and sale, all of them selfmade as Chopper had explained during their trip. 

Unfortunately, they had to wait for the fisher to come back from his trip but his superior had assured them that it wouldn’t take too long. Not that Robin minded the waiting, for now she was able to stand on the rocks at the shore and watch the calm sea slowly turning into raging waves. It made her sad as much as it pleased her eyes to see the sea so energetic; they wouldn’t be able to sail out to the diary’s old hiding spot due to the growing risk of crashing waves. They’d have to come back again, she was determined to find that exact spot and whatever the book had been drowned with, whatever story there was that was still sleeping soundly on the ocean’s floor. 

A smile ghosted over her lips when she saw Chopper sitting next to an abnormally long-nosed boy about his age on the same old bench, chatting joyfully and laughing about something she couldn’t hear. No doubt, the young scientist fitted into this world better than the dark and unnatural catacombs, he belonged here like the fields surrounding the village, like the waves crashing against the rocks, but was like a light in the darkest hours of the night in the institute. 

Her thoughts drifted off again as she turned her gaze back onto the wide sea before her. What would their search be like? She couldn’t help but wonder about the diary and what joy and trouble it would bring along. Would they be successful? Would there be severe difficulties? The longer she imagined the various obstacles they could encounter on their expedition, the more excited she became. Though it all could be crushed in one second by the hands of her boss; what if she wouldn’t be able to convince him of the importance of this expedition? 

The squeaky voice of her little friend called her back to the present. She turned around to see him waving at her to come closer, obviously their wait was over. With a small smile curling her lips, she climbed off the rocks and followed the sandy path to the cabin, to halt in front of the bench. Another man had joined them, he seemed to be older than Chopper and his long-nosed friend, though work could have moulded his appearance to an extent that fooled her eyes. Hair mostly hidden under a charcoal beanie, some strands of greenish color teased her sight and contrasted the dark gray clothes that completed the man’s outfit. His figure was tall and broad, he seemed to be of the athletic type with muscles stretching his shirt at all the right places. Whenever addressed to by Chopper and his friend, his features would soften, sometimes even turn into a small chuckle. Not really surprising to her; the teenager could even win their inhuman forensic over in a heartbeat, it seemed only natural for him to do the same with everyone else he met. 

“Robin, this is my friend - the fisher I was talking about. This is Zoro,” Chopper introduced his friend, a gentle smile adorning his lips. 

Smile fading from his lips, the fisher offered Robin his hand, no words leaving his lips as he processed the formal gesture. One look into his strangely golden shaded eyes made her feel uneasy and wrong about her presence in this place. Mistrust clouded his gaze, growing thicker the longer they looked into each other’s eyes, and forcing her to avert her eyes from him. “It’s nice to meet you,” she responded, only allowing a small smile to settle in the very corners of her lips. 

“Zoro said he can’t take us out with him because he needs the permission from his boss,” Chopper sighed in disappointment; a string of guilt tainted his pure childish manner at the realization that he had brought them to this place at the wrong time. “And he’s out in the woods for the rest of the day.”

“He’s gone since dawn, he could be back any minute,” the long-nosed boy added, his eyes nervously switching between her and the fisher. 

“That wouldn’t matter, Usopp. The sea’s becoming too dangerous for a trip and I hate getting into trouble with Franky for risking the life of others,” the green-haired man said in a soft but firm voice. 

Hanging his head low in shame, the young apprentice kneaded his hands in his lap and mumbled loud enough for them to hear: “I’m sorry, Robin.” 

The sight of the teenager feeling responsible for the putative waste of time made Robin’s lips form a soft smile and her spirits rising for a bit. Kneeling down to lean closer to the young forensic, she put a hand on his knee, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I asked you to take me here so if at all, this is my fault. Though we couldn’t know how things would turn out in the end.”

Rising his head to counter back, how he could’ve thought about the possibility of the weather playing against them, Chopper opened his mouth, ready to say that he would take the blame for this, but closed it again and just nodded when he noticed the words and smile of his colleague. 

“If it’s just for the trash I found, I have some of it still in the storage room,” the fisher pointed out, his voice a mixture of indifference and kindness. “Chopper talked me into keeping it though he knows that it pisses Franky off. That stuff’s oughtta be worth something after all the trouble it brought me.” 

“I’m sure it will be,” Robin smiled, straightening up again to face the younger man. “Can you show me?” 

“Sure,” the green-haired man said and turned on his heel to enter the backyard of the cabin through a little gap in the hedge. It was a silent signal for her to follow, subtly showing how much he cared about this whole situation. 

With Chopper and his friend at her heels, the archeologist followed the young adult into the garden of the cabin. There was a small path carved into the ground, fenced by soft green grass, designed after the daily visitors’ steps, that they followed towards the closest corner of the almost hexagonal garden. Hidden between two large bushes stood a shed, built out of dark wooden boards that once had been so neatly attached to each other but decades of changing seasons had gifted them with cracks and holes. Built for a purpose, and that one only, it withstood the weather conditions with bravery, and paid its price with cleanness.

It didn’t provide much tidiness in its interior as well, it made Robin wonder how many of the finds she could actually use for her purposes. The weather was her natural enemy, it never played into her hands and was a threat to success in her work. She never blamed it on people though; being acquainted with the dangers of weather for aging objects, she knew how to handle her finds with care, but that was a skill she had willingly learned while most of the people had no knowledge of it at all. They didn’t know, so she couldn’t blame it on them if their ignorance aggravated her work. 

The fisher pulled at a string hanging from the ceiling to turn on a lighting bulb and cover the inside of the shed in a dim but warm light. They found themselves in the center of years of collecting random objects, that would probably never get a second chance. Next to the door was a very old and rusty scooter, partly leaning against a nostalgic desk leading to a corner connecting a smaller wall at which the chaos stood. Robin had to squint to find the shelves holding clutter and trash, with the thick layer of dust covering every inch of this shed, it was even harder to tell the thousand little things apart. 

“Are we even allowed in here?” the long-nosed boy asked, doubts and a hint of apprehensibility wavering in his voice. There was something morbide, something gruesome about this place, with all its extraordinary decorations. His eyes were particularly fixed on a board hanging across from him, providing a broad collection of hunter’s traps which usage had been forbidden almost half a century ago. 

“Can’t handle even the slightest bit of horror,” the older man smirked at him challengingly and turned towards a chest to his feet. “It’s fine as long we’re here to take this junk out anyway.”

“If it’s a problem to you or getting you into trouble, then I’m completely fine with leaving it alone,” Robin interjected, she didn’t feel comfortable with the consequences Chopper’s friends might have to endure. “I am by no means he-”

“It’s okay, alright?” His harsh words cut through her own as a sword flesh, and left tension in their wake. Without another word, he knelt down to look for handles or anything of that kind to pick the chest up. Although everything in this shed was old and broken, this chest and its content seemed to be the oldest and also most valuable of all the finds around it. Admittedly, he had surfaced it from underwater out of pure curiosity of what could be hiding inside, and had ever since not been able to wonder less about the chest’s secret. 

Cautious of the mood that was lingering between them, Chopper carefully approached his friend and halted next to him, his gaze wandering from him to the chest on the floor. “Is that all that’s left?” 

Zoro sighed deeply, “Unfortunately, yeah. Franky was bothered by the broken plates and all that other stuff so he threw it all into the dumpster… safe for this chest. Guess he’s as curious about its inside as I am.” 

“You weren’t able to open it?” Chopper pressed further and found himself relaxing a bit when the older man smiled up at him. 

“Nope… at least not with my bare hands. Franky wanted to break it open but I stopped him, told him that you’d freak out if we did,” Zoro chuckled at his young friend who agreed with a slight pout on his features. “You have better tools to open it without breaking it, I guess.” 

Carefully following the conversation, Robin remained at the door in silence. As much as she wanted to take a better look, finally find out more about this whole case, she didn’t want to annoy the fisher any further. There was something about herself that forced him to maintain a healthy distance that he defended fiercely. His cooperation was in need though, and so she decided to leave this part to her apprentice. 

A frown settled onto Chopper’s forehead as he nodded, his mind already filtering out possible methods of opening the chest. “So Franky doesn’t mind if we took it with us? I’d definitely tell you what we would find out if that’s all that it takes for him to agree.” 

That made the fisher laugh softly, “As if he could ever say no to you.”

+++

The ride back to the institute was torturesome. With the help of the men, they had loaded the chest into Robin’s car, securely into the boot to prevent it from distracting her during the drive. Though, she couldn’t forget about it, its mysterious aura was almost aggressively trying to reach for her and her attention. Being aware of the significance of the trunk, only two arms lengths behind her, knowing how it was the key to the solution, maybe even the final missing puzzle piece in this picture, filled her with an even more intense curiosity that she could barely sit still. So many questions, so many ideas infiltrated her head, leaving no room for rationality, let alone much concentration on her surrounding world.

It was pure luck that the rain had held in until they reached the institute, and a blessing that the traffic had been remarkably calm and steady. Silence had been travelling with them, leaving them both in deep thought about the archeological treasure they had found. Together they would find out what past was hiding inside this old chest, what history had been nearly forgotten and vanished on the bottom of the sea. Maybe it was connected to the village as well, and could even reveal some previously unknown stories about it? What if this whole find belonged to something greater than they dared to imagine?

Carrying the heavy chest up the stairs onto the second floor turned into a little odyssey; since the time of the day, the institute was almost empty with no one in sight to help. They managed it though without the chest taking any damage or themselves. Inside Robin’s office, they set it into the center of the room, pushing away furniture to have enough space to settle comfortably around it. 

For a long moment, they just sat there, observing the object between them, touching, feeling the outer material stretching over the whole surface. To their disappointment, it had suffered dearly under the pressure of the time and water it had been exposed to. Carved lines hinted of lettering originally adorning the top, paint was lingering in the corners here and there. On several spots, particularly the left side of the trunk, the cover was missing leaving the base material visible to the eye. It seemed to have been ripped off at first glance, maybe even savored by the sea itself. From Robin’s current knowledge of it, it must have been lying down on the seafloor for centuries at least, so it was possible. 

“Look, there's a hole where the leather is missing,” Chopper suddenly pointed out, his eyes fixed on a particular spot, “It’s pretty clean, except for the first layer of wood around it seems to be ripped off.” 

Surprised by the new discovery, the archeologist crawled over to the young apprentice and let him show her. Indeed, there was a hole through the thick wood of approximately an inch width. Whatever went through the wall of the chest had damaged the surface of the wood, indicated by a line going over the hole from one side to the other lacking the first few layers of the wooden board. 

“I think it came from a gun or similar weapon,” Chopper went on and looked up expectantly to his superior. “Maybe it loosened the leather that was stretched over the chest so it tore and the rest was damaged by the water. I think that’s why there’s missing so much of it on only this side.”

With a smile on her lips, Robin returned the look. “Great observation, Dr. Tony.” She knew what effect compliments had on the young apprentice but it was the right time to express her respect for his way of thinking. 

“Oh I was just guessing,” the aspiring forensic blushed, “And don’t call me that!” 

Robin chuckled, “I think it suits you well already. And ‘just guessing’ is a part of my work process, so you’re doing alright.” 

“Stop complimenting me so much,” Chopper continued and nuzzled his face into his palms to hide his embarrassment. 

“I assume you don’t get to hear that too often from your boss,” she smiled, still a little amused by the young man’s reaction. Imagining her colleague complimenting anyone seemed surreal, it was even hard to imagine it at all. 

“No, Dr. Trafalgar never says anything about my work. But that’s okay. I heard that he hates to work in a team so I guess that I am allowed to assist him is a compliment in itself,” the apprentice smiled widely, sounding so much older than he looked. 

“I guess it is,” Robin nodded, a small feeling of sadness lingering in her voice. It didn’t seem quite fair to her that this dedicated, hard-working young man, always so kind and supportive, had to search for affirmation in the cryptic behavior of his instructor and only ever dug up a hint of it. Yet, their forensic had never been very social. 

The conversation shifted into another, more comfortable direction as they turned their attention back on the chest in front of them. So far, they had discovered a few more clues about it only from its exterior - what great discovery was awaiting them inside? Sadly, they wouldn’t be able to find out without damaging the valuable object further, since as the fisher had put it correctly, it was impossible to open it with bare hands. A key was needed that they didn’t have nor could obtain. Some very clever mechanism was keeping the treasure chest shut which only confirmed Robin’s assumption even more: Something of great value must be lying inside, if important to the owner alone or the whole world, that she needed to find out as well. 

They needed to decide on a way of opening it first of all. If they would break it open, they would damage it probably even further since it wasn’t made of high quality material; just wood and poor leather that obviously couldn’t withstand a shot from a gun. Maybe they should have allowed the fishers to open the trunk; though without the right tools, they at least had the strength they might need to open it. 

“There’s another hole.” The bright voice of the apprentice disconnected her from her train of thoughts and immediately gained all her attention. “It looks similar to the other one, look here.” A little higher but on the same side of the chest, hidden under a loose piece of leather, was another hole going through the wood. It had the same characteristics as in size and shape, as well the effect it had on the wood itself. 

Was it already safe to assume that someone had tried to open the chest? Or rather, destroy it? Then again, the holes were on the side of the trunk and wouldn’t help to unlock it. What if this chest had been the silent witness of a fight and had accidentally been shot at? Robin settled with these questions on her mind and opened her mouth to voice them when her gaze fell on the face of Chopper, apparently in deep thought. “So, what do you think?” she asked instead, curious of what he would come up with, if his ideas confirmed or added to hers. 

The young apprentice opened his lips to voice his theories but a knock at the door caught them in his throat. Surprised at the sudden noise behind their backs, they both held their breaths for a second and waited for the cause of the sound to approach. So deeply involved in the mystery of the trunk, mentally and even emotionally, they hadn’t expected any kind of disturbance. There was an aura wavering off the chest that as they knew now, no one could escape, not even the fishers who were strangers to this field of research. Something so powerful it was capable of drawing everyone’s attention to itself, so skilled in igniting curiosity inside even the most ignorant of men. How could they have freed themselves out of this mental prison, set up by this unsolved riddle? They had simply given into it, allowing it to lead them out of their reality. 

The sound of footsteps approached their ears, louder the closer their owner came. Instantly, Chopper arose to his feet, having been taught so during countless lessons about etiquette and politeness. Though he knew that those had only been general guidelines on how to behave towards superior people at work, their content was carved into his mind and he was too obedient to not follow them, no matter if he needed to or not. Also, in this very moment, he was aware of his fault, he shouldn’t be here but somewhere else in the institute, doing his assigned job and nothing else. How had he even dared to disregard his duty? Dr. Trafalgar had only allowed him to stay away for as long as it took to retrieve the chest, not for analysing it afterwards. 

From her seat on the ground, next to the young forensic, Robin could clearly watch tension spreading from the boy’s shoulders through the rest of his body. Had she brought him into trouble? Slowly she straightened up as well, turning into the direction of their visitor, and was surprised at the face her eyes met. 

Standing (tall) in front of them was their boss, the very director of the institute for research and science. The characteristic smirk lingering in the corners of his lips and the long untamed white hair, shining so silvery in the sunlight, along with the random pick at colors and patterns for his clothes; that was the familiar air of their superior. “Mr. Tony, what surprise to meet you here, I thought you were helping Dr. Trafalgar with the playground case? I heard the detectives in charge are already urging for a result,” he spoke, allowing the smirk to spread over his lips for a second, “Shouldn’t you be downstairs, helping him with all the work?”

“Yes, sir, I’m terribly sorry, sir,” Chopper rambled in a thin voice, “I’ve gotten carried away, I apologize for my inappropriate behavior. I didn’t intend to disregard my responsibilities as assistant, Dr. Silvers.” Anyone could watch his insecurity taking him over, the embarrassment and tension shaking his body uncontrollably. _How had he dared!?_

“Just go down, I assume your boss will not mind. But don’t repeat your mistake, Mr. Tony,” the older man said firmly, a stern expression on his features replacing the previous one. Those words were all the young apprentice needed to leave the room in a hurry, although not after apologizing again and thanking Robin for letting him help. 

Once Chopper was gone, Robin turned around again, her back towards the older man, and sighed deeply. There wasn’t much effort needed to feel sorry for the young man since all the reasons were handed to her on a silver plate. “I don’t see how that was necessary. His workplace is tough enough as it is,” she said without hesitating; her relationship to the director was quite the opposite of Chopper’s. 

Dr. Silvers laughed, “A little bit of discipline doesn’t hurt him, Robin. And that’s what he’s here for after all. We’re in charge of forming his character as well, not only his knowledge and skills. It doesn’t help that he’s everybody’s weak spot.” 

The truth of his words crawled under her skin faster than her mind could fully comprehend them. Heat spread over her cheeks, tinting them in a faint tone of red as an inevitable wave of embarrassment rushed over her. Impossible to deny, this was very true, not only for their creepy forensic but also for her; ever since the beginning of his apprenticeship, Robin had been spoiling him. But how could anyone not? Even those with a rather cold heart as Dr. Trafalgar couldn’t escape the apprentice’s charme. And that the young man wasn’t even aware of it made it only worse. 

“So, I guess you made a great discovery that you even allowed someone else into your head?” The institute’s director picked up a messy pile of papers from a nearby armchair, flipped through them without much interest and set them on top of another pile of books on a mahogany table. He settled into the chair, arms lazily lying on the armrests and watched in slight amusement his best archeologist examining a chest. The blush he had hoped to see, now that her profile was visible to him, was unfortunately hidden behind a curtain of long raven hair. 

“I received the information through Chopper,” she plainly countered from her position on the ground, hunched over the top of the chest. There were little letters carved into the skin she hadn’t noticed before, right below the larger, previously golden inscription in the center. She could only guess what it said, the owner’s name for example but a quote wasn’t farfetched either. 

“Well, he seems interested in archeology, I’ve heard that much from Law already,” Dr. Silvers nodded, his eyes roaming over the crammed desks and sideboards around the room. 

That little of information made Robin smile, “He does talk about him, I presume?”

“Yes, indeed. A lot actually. It’s beyond me what the boy has that makes him go out of his way. I’ve never even imagined Law to comment on someone’s work unless it’s really putting him off. But complimenting someone? Especially someone so much younger than himself,” the silver-haired man wondered in amazement. 

“I still can’t get close to him. Sometimes I feel as if he doesn’t even accept my existence,” Robin frowned, partly because of her colleague, partly because of the damaged inscription. The method of carving something into material was a way of preserving a message, a name or anything written and so to protect it from decay. And yet, this remarkable work of mankind had failed. She let her fingers carefully feel the curves, closed her eyes even to trace along the lines and figure it out by touching but the leather was too damaged at some spots. Some lines melted into fissures creating dips where none should be. If even the outside was this ruined, what would the inside look like? Let alone its treasure?

Moments of silence passed by that she didn’t notice, her mind already and completely taking over by the trunk and what story it had to tell. She couldn’t fight her curiosity, she couldn’t turn off her interest in this great discovery. She was a slave to her passion of solving mysteries and no one could blame her for that, could they?

“It never fails to fascinate me how easily you’re sold on things like this. And how intensely,” her boss smirked after a while of just watching her work. “I think that’s what makes you the best in your field these days.” After another pause, with no reaction from her, he added: “That aside, could you finally let me in on this new treasure of yours?”

Ignoring the intended joke in his words, Robin sat up and freed her face of a few strands, casually brushing them behind her ear. “Chopper brought in an old diary a few days ago. A fisher down in Miracle Cove found it during a trip along with a lot of broken china and other things and also this chest. I haven’t yet been able to figure out to whom it once belonged, or anything at all. Judging from the material and what’s left of art on the diary as well as on this chest, neither of the objects can be older than three hundred years,” she explained to her supervisor. 

She watched him for a moment, how he so obviously archived the new information in his head and then finally nodded for her to continue. “So far, I think the diary belonged to someone of knowledge or at least well-educated. There was beautiful calligraphy all over the pages, as far as I could see,” she smiled, more to herself than to her listener. “Most of the ink was washed off though, so I couldn’t find out what exactly it was about. I only assume that it’s a diary; it could be a logbook for all I know.” 

Another pause followed, silence sat down on her shoulders, its weight pushing her thoughts back down her throat. The moment of action was close, her chance to ask for the permission to dive for more treasures was almost there. But the silence, the lack of response from the man across from her, was threatening to draw every ounce of energy for and excitement over the discovery from her body. 

It took a moment or two for him to answer, these painful seconds, what torture of her patience they were that he was so aware of. She hated that the most about him. “And what about the trunk?” was all he asked. 

Releasing a bit of tension in a sigh, Robin closed her eyes for a second to recall all the data she and Chopper had collected, then continued. “Since I was stuck in my research with the book, I asked Chopper for any more details. He didn’t know but told me that this befriended fisher who has found the book also found more underwater. That was why he was with me instead of with Dr. Trafalgar, but we asked for permission of course.” Dr. Silvers looked at her over his perfectly round glasses with an amused grin. She ignored him and went on, “We drove to Miracle Cove and met with the fisher, originally to see the exact spot of the find ourselves but the weather wasn’t playing along.” After another long and deep sigh, she concluded, “Long story short, all we brought back was this chest that we can’t open without breaking. All we’ve found out so far are two holes on one side of the trunk, most likely created by a shot from a gun or similar.”

Dr. Silvers closed his eyes for a second, released a deep breath through his nose, obviously considering something. A question would be asked, he knew, he had already seen it lying on her lips, burning in her eyes, and there was only him, able to give an answer. Sitting up, ready to stand and leave, he looked at her with a soft smile, “Do whatever you need to find out whatever you’re searching for.” With that, he arose from the antique armchair and walked over to the door, “But quit stealing other people’s assistants.”


End file.
